


a time when everything is beautiful

by gothzabini (girl412)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon What Canon, Christmas, Coffee Shops, Community: rs_small_gifts, Community: small_gifts, Families of Choice, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings, hah, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 14:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17225411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl412/pseuds/gothzabini
Summary: Remus learns that there is more than one way to break a curse, with a little help from Sirius. Featuring a chance encounter with Sirius Black at a coffee shop and a wedding in January.





	a time when everything is beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abyss_valkyrie (Technomancer28)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Technomancer28/gifts).



> Thanks to Fran for the beta read, and thanks Alex for the encouragement and everything else. I ended up sort of incorporating elements of the Wildcard challenge in this, as well as the first two prompts. Hope you enjoy this, Abyss <3
> 
> took much longer to cross-post this than anticipated (was on a family vacation!) & therefore missed putting it here on time for Christmas this year, but I hope it's still likeable HAHAHA

Remus leaves the house that evening simply because he has nothing else to do. If things were different, he knows where he would be – in one of those interesting new clubs downtown, dancing with boys perhaps or talking to the bartender about his history classes under the pretext of having a friend. If things were different, he wouldn’t have woken up feeling like it was his funeral and carefully cleaned out the attic, trying to ignore how his fingers were shaking. He wouldn’t have had to worry about the curse any longer, but now he was stuck with it forever. In the grim irony characteristic of his life, it happened to be Christmas day.  
  
Christmas and yet no miracles for this poor boy, Remus thinks. He wears a cardigan his mum had knitted him back when she could still knit, before the arthritis had set in and her immune system had weakened gravely. He intentionally dons his most beaten up pair of jeans in a show of something between nonchalance and bitterness, and decides that he is going to get some hot chocolate instead of drinking until he passes out.  
  
Remus walks to his favourite coffee shop with the knowledge that if this cannot make him feel better, then probably nothing can. There’s a large queue that’s already formed by the counter, and he joins at the end, right behind a man who looks around his age in a leather jacket, with dark hair loose falling to his shoulder. His hair looks soft and Remus resists the urge to reach out and touch it, choosing instead to view the Christmas offers written on the menu in the hopes of claiming a discount.  
  
Someone joins the queue behind him and jostles him, possibly trying to knock him out of the line, and Remus stumbles, colliding with the attractive man in front of him.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, but the man beams at him as if pleasantly surprised.  
  
“It’s no big deal,” he says cheerfully. “Are you alright?”  
  
Remus isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he just shrugs.  
  
“What do you usually order?” the man asks, running a hand through his hair.  
  
“Hot chocolate and muffins, usually,” Remus says, since there’s no harm in disclosing comfort food preferences. “Anything with chocolate works.”  
  
“There’s a man after my own heart,” the man says, beaming.  
  
The line shortens whilst Remus is puzzling over this but he doesn’t have too long to dwell on it, because the next thing he knows, an arm is snaking around his waist and the man is talking to the lady on the counter, placing _Remus’s_ order as well as ordering a black coffee and a croissant.  
  
“Couple’s discount of course, for me and my precious Moonbeam here,” he says, somehow sounding sincere and genuine, as if he really is in love with Remus.  
  
By the time Remus has processed this, the man has already paid and is accepting the tray from the lady at the counter.  
  
“You didn’t have to _pay_ ,” Remus protests, following the strange man who has his food.  
  
“I wanted to treat you, love,” the man responds, sitting in a corner booth that’s meant for two. Remus slides into the seat across from him, aware that it looks like they’re on a date.  
  
“You don’t even know my name,” Remus whispers, afraid that if the staff overhear and realise they’re pretending they’ll cancel the discount.  
  
The man laughs. “Why don’t you tell me, then?”  
  
“I’m Remus,” Remus says, taking his food and sipping his hot chocolate. He attempts to give the man an unimpressed look. The man smiles back, undaunted.  
  
“Sirius,” he says. “Pleased to meet you. Sorry about that, there was a discount and I thought we could put it to good use.” He pauses for a minute, looking unsure. “I’m not inconveniencing you, am I?”  
  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Remus says, giving him a small smile. “Would’ve been nice if you’d let me know before, so I would’ve been in on the plan.”  
  
Sirius looks contemplative. “Yes, I know, and I usually would’ve, but – ”  
  
Remus smirks. “What, did you think I wouldn’t be up for it? Took one look at my cardigan and thought what a nice boy I must be, and that I’ve never done anything wrong in my life?”  
  
Sirius looks away, flustered. “Might’ve done.”  
  
Remus thinks it’s the most endearing thing he’s seen.  
  
“I’m an _established_ troublemaker,” Remus confides, mostly to break the silence.  
  
“Me too,” Sirius says, giving him a conspiratorial smile before taking a sip of coffee. “I bet I was worse than you were at school.”  
  
Remus chokes on a laugh. “Unlikely.”  
  
Conversation flows more smoothly from there, with both boys sharing escapades from their respective school experiences, but moving on to a number of unconnected things as well, such as the cat who regularly visits Sirius’s garden, where Remus buys his socks from, what’s a good colour to paint a guest bedroom and whether toads would make good pets. Remus isn’t sure if Sirius can tell that he hasn’t had the best day so far and is trying to cheer him up, but if that’s what he is doing, it’s working.  
  
Eventually, they’re both finished with their food and drink and Remus is ready to say goodbye and thank Sirius for everything. Before he can do this, however, Sirius reaches across the table and gently takes hold of his wrist.  
  
“There’s something I want to ask you,” Sirius says. “It might seem a little forward.”  
  
“Everything about this evening has been a little forward,” Remus points out with a smile. “So far, I have no complaints.”  
  
“Well, er, the thing is...”  
  
Sirius actually looks nervous, fidgeting with his crockery despite the fact that his plate is empty.  
  
“Sirius, it’s fine. Whatever it is that you want to say? It’s alright.”  
  
“My best friend’s getting married,” Sirius says in a rush. “Could you be my date for the wedding?”  
  
Remus is startled – whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this.  
  
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “It depends on when the wedding is.”  
  
“You’ll come if you can?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Remus repeats. “I had a good time with you this evening, and I enjoy spending time with you, but we’re still not exactly there, you know? I don’t know you very well, and you don’t know me.”  
  
“Get to know me, then,” Sirius says, his voice gentle. He looks a little desperate.  
  
“Tell me more about them,” Remus says. “Tell me why this is so important to you.”  
  
Sirius looks surprised, but nods. He lets go of Remus’s wrist.  
  
“When I was sixteen,” he begins, but then stops just as abruptly as he’d started. “It’s a heavy story, I’m not sure I’m really in a fit state to recount it to you in all its gory detail, but things were really bad. James – my best mate – he was the only person who was there for me. We’re not related by blood, but we’re as close as family. He’s like a brother to me, and he’s finally marrying the girl of his dreams, this girl called Lily. She’s bright, smart, fiery, takes no shit, you know the type? An actual angel honestly, and I like to joke that she’s out of his league but honestly, they suit each other.” Sirius sighs, fidgets with a paper napkin. “They’re the kindest people I know.”  
  
“And you need a date for the wedding, and that’ll be me?” Remus responds.  
  
Sirius sighs a little shakily. “I’m best man, and I technically don’t need a date, but all my friends from school have been trying to set me up with strange men and it never works. Everyone wants something from me. I can never really feel comfortable around them, you know? But this hour I spent here with you was the safest and most included I’ve felt in a while. You don’t have other commitments, do you?”  
  
Remus thinks for a minute. “I’ll need to check, but I’ll do my best to make it,” he finally replies.  
  
Sirius looks like there’s more he wants to say, so Remus waits.  
  
The silence pays off, possibly. Sirius gives Remus a thoughtful look as if trying to decide whether or not he can be trusted with a heartfelt confession, and after a moment of consideration, gives Remus something that is almost a smile.  
  
“I know it sounds pathetic, maybe,” Sirius murmurs, “but I’ve been feeling sort of left out of late. All my friends know what they want, and they’re on their way to getting it. It’s like they’re moving forward without me, and I shouldn’t feel like this with James and Lily, because they’re trying so hard to make me feel like I belong there, but that’s the thing, I don’t. Not really, and I almost miss the time when it used to be just me and James against the world. I am happy for them, I really am, but it’s so easy for me to tell myself that I’m not needed anymore, however irrational that sounds. They make each other happy and I’m glad they do, I just –”  
  
Remus reaches out this time, taking Sirius’s hands in his. Sirius stops speaking abruptly, staring at their connected hands with a slightly startled expression.  
  
“You’re not a bad person for that,” Remus says gently. “Change tends to be stressful and it’s alright to feel a little lost. I know what you’re going through, maybe not with regards to their marriage, but certainly when it comes to people leaving you behind. I grew up mostly friendless, so I know a thing or two about loneliness as well, and I want you to know I’m here for you. I’m here for you as a friend but I’m not opposed to trying other things. All you need to do is give me the date and time for this wedding and I’ll see if I can make it.”  
  
“Thank you,” Sirius says, his voice disbelievingly soft.  
  
Remus gets up from their table and so does Sirius, and on an impulse, Remus wraps his arms around him, pulling Sirius into a hug. He can tell that it’s the right decision based off how Sirius sighs and melts into the embrace, hugging him back readily.  
  
“Funny how the couple’s discount led to this,” Sirius whispers, moving away from the hug to scribble his number on a napkin in blue ballpoint pen. He hands it to Remus with a flourish. “Call me, or text me, or send me dog memes. Your choice.” And then he winks.  
  
When Remus gets home, his first priority is saving the number in his phone. He barely registers the dust, the broken grandfather clock, the newspaper he’d never finished reading and left open at the table, the smell of rotten flowers, and the dog-eared Christmas card – the only form of contact his father had maintained over the years.  
  
It’s only after he sends Sirius a video of a dog attempting to play with a plastic frog that he realises he hasn’t thought about his curse even once since meeting the other man.  
  
***  
  
The wedding’s scheduled towards the end of January. Remus ensures it doesn’t fall on a full moon before he confirms to Sirius, and then somehow between pre-wedding preparation and Sirius’s insistence that they “ _get to know each other like you mentioned, Remus_ ”, hardly a day goes by without them spending time together.  
  
They visit art museums, libraries, and dog shelters. They go on picnics and Sirius shows Remus how to fly a kite, standing very close to him and holding his hands as they grip the string together. Remus talks Sirius through his history major and the paper he’s writing about intersectionality and queerness in the middle ages. Sirius adds perspective now and then, talking about colonisation and anarchy and punk movements.  
  
Some nights, Remus stays over at Sirius’s place. They stay up most nights drinking hot chocolate and discussing literature and art and sometimes, they watch movies together and listen to classical music and talk about themselves. Remus would’ve found it pretentious if it didn’t feel so satisfying and good.  
  
It’s hard for Remus to not feel bitter about the curse. A large part of him feels like Sirius deserves better, that he won’t want to be with Remus once he finds out. At the same time, the way they fit together feels so natural that it’s hard to believe anything could displace them.  
  
Sirius invites Remus to James and Lily’s New Year’s Party, but Remus declines, tells Sirius that parties aren’t his thing. On the 31st of December, at 11:45PM, there’s a knock on his door, and he opens it to find Sirius standing there in a shirt and jeans, with a slightly battered looking bouquet of roses in his hands and a look in his eyes that suggests that he is not entirely sober.  
  
“I want to kiss you at midnight,” Sirius admits, handing Remus the roses, which Remus quickly and efficiently puts into a glass jug.  
  
“Are you sure?” Remus asks, looking at the clock. “I would like that very much, but I wouldn’t want you to regret it later.”  
  
“Remus,” Sirius says solemnly, putting his hands on Remus’s face. “If I don’t kiss you, I’ll regret it. As long as you want it too.”  
  
Remus presses his forehead against Sirius’s.  
  
“At this point, you’re my best friend,” he tells him. “I don’t want anything to change that.”  
  
“Oh,” Sirius says, soft and wondering. “You’re my best friend too. Well, one of them at any rate, but certainly up there. _Nothing_ will change that. I promise.”  
  
Remus looks at the clock again.  
  
“Well?” he says.  
  
Sirius smiles and kisses him, and Remus smiles into his mouth before he kisses back.  
  
***  
  
The transformation in January is the first transformation after the curse’s permanency, and knowing that this is his reality for the rest of his life makes the pain worse. The wolf is angry, angry with Remus for weakness, angry with Remus for wanting to get him out, angry with Remus for shutting him inside his skin. Curse magic burns like an itch and Remus closes his eyes, knowing that this night is going to be record-breakingly bad.  
  
He wakes up to find that the wolf has broken three windows, gnawed at his thigh, broken some ribs, and possibly gotten a splinter in his jaw.  
  
Being a werewolf in a world that doesn’t believe in magic is difficult, Remus thinks, glad that he’d told Sirius in advance not to visit on the days he knew he’d be impacted. He does his first aid himself, as he has ever since his mother’s health deteriorated too much for her to be able to help, and then he lies in bed and texts Sirius to ask him if he believes in magic.  
  
The response is simple and immediate. “Yes.”  
  
“Elaborate,” Remus sends back.  
  
“Might sound bonkers,” the text message reads, “but our family’s always been afflicted by certain things that are not explainable without magic. hope this isn’t a dealbreaker?”  
  
“Of course not,” Remus types and sends. “your family could be necromancers and I’d still want to be with you.”  
  
The response he gets chills his bones. “too close to the mark there,” the message reads. “don’t joke about it, but if you’re bored and want to research serial killers, you could always google bellatrix black.”  
  
Remus doesn’t text back, instead he calls, aware that his voice will sound hoarser than usual from all the screaming the wolf did.  
  
“Hello,” Sirius says, because for someone who’s an established troublemaker, he can be very polite.  
  
“You’re not Bellatrix,” Remus says instead of a greeting. “You’re not one of them, Sirius. You left them to live with James, and that choice defines you so much more than some biological tree does.”  
  
Sirius doesn’t say anything, but when he speaks he sounds a little distant. “Thanks for that. You don’t know my family though. They’re the worst, Remus.”  
  
“I’m sorry you had to deal with them,” Remus says.  
  
Sirius hums. “We all have our trauma and our emotional baggage, don’t we?”  
  
Remus suspects he’s been found out, but isn’t sure what exactly Sirius knows.  
  
“I know I do,” he says, because there’s only one way to move from there. “I trust you a lot, but I’m not ready to talk about it, because it’s honestly terrifying. And maybe that’s something we’ve got in common.”  
  
“I think it is,” Sirius agrees. “Also, magic? Where did that come from?”  
  
“I’m under a curse,” Remus says. “That’s my trauma, more or less. I don’t really want to talk about it right now, but if you want this thing we have to last, you need to be prepared.”  
  
“No way to break it?” Sirius asks, and Remus responds in the negative.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. “I hear those are really difficult to live with. If you’re worried I’ll change my mind about being with you over something like that, don’t worry. I know what it’s like to live with things you don’t want to live with.”  
  
“And you believe in magic,” Remus says. “You know this is real.”  
  
“That I do,” Sirius agrees.  
  
“I’m going to nap,” Remus tells him, because he’s exhausted even if it is ten in the morning. “Thank you for everything.”  
  
“Sure, anytime,” Sirius says, unperturbed by his odd choice of naptime. “Remus? before you go?”  
  
“Yes, Sirius?”  
  
“Your throat sounds a little bad. Would some cough syrup help?”  
  
Remus feels touched, strangely enough, but also liberated, because Sirius knows that the curse exists. He doesn’t need to go to the lengths of hiding it anymore.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Remus says. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”  
  
“Take care,” Sirius says. “Go catch your sleep. I’m sending love over telephone wires.”  
  
That said, he hangs up. Remus knows that he’s going to be thinking about that all day.  
  
***  
  
The actual day of the wedding finds Remus and Sirius both understandably nervous. Sirius, despite having practiced his speech several times, is still staring at the crumpled sheet of paper with shaking hands. Remus knows he’s memorized it and that he could say it in his sleep, and he reminds Sirius of this, putting a hand on his shoulder gently.  
  
Remus is nervous as he’s never met James or Lily before. This isn’t for lack of opportunity – Sirius had offered, but Remus had avoided it mostly out of anxiety. Sirius understood and respected that.  
  
“You’re going to be great,” Remus says softly to Sirius as they walk up to the venue.  
  
“They’re going to love you,” Sirius replies, just as softly.  
  
They hold hands all the way, and when they enter the hall, Sirius loops an arm around Remus’s waist, steering him towards his friends.  
  
This time, when he introduces Remus as his precious Moonbeam, the sincerity in his voice is real. It makes Remus think of how they met, and that makes him smile.  
  
As Sirius predicted, James and Lily adore Remus.  
  
“We’ve heard so much about you,” Lily tells him. “It feels like we already know you.”  
  
“Anyone who cares about Sirius and makes him happy is automatically my best friend,” James says, giving him a hug, much to Remus’s surprise.  
  
Sirius’s speech is wonderful as well, sincere and sweet but with a surprising number of deer puns. They seem to be an inside joke between Sirius, James and Lily, but they add a certain charm to the speech and to the dynamic between the newlyweds as well.  
  
The wedding is a huge success, and the reception is just as wonderful.  
  
Music, alcohol, food and dancing are involved, and before long everyone is engaging in an activity involving one or more of these. Some people are talking amongst themselves, and some people are congratulating James and Lily. Some people are crying (Remus suspects this group includes James and Lily’s parents, but he isn’t too sure.)  
  
The overall atmosphere is jovial, but it’s also open. There’s a certain afterglow that everyone seems to feel, since the overall mood is one of appreciating two people deeply in love. Remus can tell that this is a night where people are saying what they think and feel without worrying about the consequences.  
  
Sirius drags Remus off to meet everyone, and Remus sees more people than he thinks he can remember. They don’t linger, opting instead to sit with James and Lily, whom Remus has taken an instant liking to. James and Sirius bicker in the way that only best friends can, and Lily talks to Remus with genuine interest about his history degree. They end up sharing stories about how James and Lily were at school. Sirius is especially animated, his grey eyes sparkling as he narrates yet another incident in which James attempted to woo Lily and failed miserably, and James and Remus laugh in all the right places, while Lily just watches them fondly.  
  
Sirius and Remus dance, eventually. Remus protests at first but Sirius is insistent, telling Remus not to worry because he’s a good dancer. Remus trusts Sirius enough to relax, and finds himself having a good time moving with Sirius to the music. He feels warm and safe in Sirius’s arms, both physically and mentally.  
  
After this, they go to a balcony that’s somewhat hidden from everyone’s view. Sirius is holding a bottle of champagne that he gingerly sets on the ground. Remus and Sirius sit together, Remus leaning back and Sirius enveloping him in his arms.  
  
It’s easy then, for Remus to tell him, in this moment of relative solitude and silence they’ve found for themselves.  
  
“I’m a werewolf,” he murmurs, and Sirius laughs in a way that is gentle and non-mocking and kisses his cheek.  
  
“Oh, Remus,” he says, his voice impossibly fond. “It’ll take a lot more than something like that to scare me away.”  
  
And somehow, in that moment, Remus believes him.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Remus wakes up in Sirius’s flat. He knows they didn’t do anything other than talk in the night, but it still feels surprising. Remus realises that he hadn’t expected Sirius to want him around after the wedding date, and feels a little embarrassed for thinking that.  
  
“Hi,” Sirius says, walking into the room. “No hangover?”  
  
Remus can see him holding paracetamol in his hands. He shakes his head. “One of the few perks of being what I am.”  
  
Sirius is silent for a minute, but his curiosity wins in the end. “What’s it like?” he asks.  
  
“Painful,” Remus says truthfully. “I don’t mind being the wolf once its form has set in, but the transformation hurts. The wolf is always restless, angry, wanting release. My body rips itself apart, and it feels like my mind does too.”  
  
“And there’s no cure?” Sirius’s voice is impossibly gentle, his right hand resting idly on Remus’s left forearm.  
  
“There was one way,” Remus explains. “A provision of sorts. If I could get someone to fall in love with me by Christmas day, the curse would be lifted and I’d be completely human again.” He pauses for a moment, and then decides to give Sirius more context. “ In my case, the wolf is a revenge curse that someone put on me because my father angered them. There are instances of werewolves who don’t suffer their transformations at all because their abilities are a gift. I don’t fit into that category, as you can guess.”  
  
“Shit,” Sirius murmurs under his breath. “That’s so fucked up, Remus, I’m sorry.”  
  
“I’m trying to make my peace with it,” Remus says, fiddling with the blankets. He registers Sirius sit next to him from his peripheral vision.  
  
“You’re very brave, Remus Lupin. But I don’t think you need to be brave anymore, at least, not all by yourself.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“No,” Sirius says softly. “You shared your secrets, I’m going to share mine. I’m part dog, not like you are with the werewolf thing – I can transform at will. I’d like to join your pack. I don’t think Wolf-Remus will really mind. From what I’ve heard of werewolves, they like packs, don’t they?”  
  
“Yes,” Remus murmurs softly, almost unable to process the kindness and generosity of what Sirius is offering and the risk –the risk he’s willing to take for him.  
  
“We’ll research this a little, don’t look so worried,” Sirius says. “I think it could work, but I’m not going to dive in without thinking.”  
  
Remus hums in agreement.  
  
“There’s another thing,” Sirius says, and he looks almost bashful this time. “My hair has healing properties, and it glows and heals things when I sing. You mentioned that transformations hurt – maybe I could take away the pain.”  
  
“You’d do that?” Remus asks, stunned.  
  
“I can try,” Sirius says, giving him a soft smile and pressing their foreheads together.  
  
“Right now?”  
  
“If that’s what you want,” Sirius says gently.  
  
“I’m down if you are,” Remus replies softly but with conviction.  
  
“Okay,” Sirius says, and then the next thing Remus knows , Sirius is singing something that sounds soft and bittersweet. One of his hands is pressed against Remus’s chest. Remus’s eyes have automatically closed, but he knows that Sirius’s hair is glowing softly golden, like a swarm of fireflies. Remus feels an alien warmth pass through him, but it’s comforting in the same way sharing a bed with Sirius is – it just feels right.  
  
When Sirius stops singing, Remus opens his eyes and tries to focus on his body.  
  
“Something feels different,” he observes. “I feel... lighter. More free.”  
  
Sirius smiles. “Your next transformation is the only way to confirm its effectiveness, but I really think it worked,” he says.  
  
That’s when Remus notices the grey in Sirius’s hair, and he causally reaches out, tracing the single streak that wasn’t there before with his fingertips.  
  
“You’ve got a grey streak now,” he says softly. “Did it take a lot out of you?”  
  
“You could say that,” Sirius says. “But I don’t regret it at all, Remus. I’d do it all over again. I’d do anything for you.”  
  
Maybe it’s too early for ‘ _I love you’s_ ’, but Remus can feel them lingering unsaid anyway. He kisses Sirius’s forehead and closes his eyes.  
  
“I’d do anything for you, too,” he says.  
  
***  
  
EPILOGUE :  
  
Remus stands in the deserted silence of a forest that’s just been touched by sunset. Sirius stands by him, but Sirius is in his dog form, who, Remus has been informed, goes by Padfoot. A night in early February, they’d named the wolf Moony, but Remus is unsure if this name will stay after Sirius encounters the real thing. He tells himself to stay calm, to trust in Sirius’s magic and assurance, and to wait.  
  
When the moon finally begins to rise, Remus is ready, having already taken his clothes off to prevent them being shredded. Padfoot gently licks his hand, seemingly aware of what is going to happen. Maybe he can smell it on Remus – the pre-transformation hunger and angriness – except this time, it feels less frantic.  
  
His body shakes with the usual tremors but there’s no screaming and no pain; only a soft shudder and his body shifting with the force of it. It feels natural for the first time; no cracks of bones, no skin shredding, nothing gory whatsoever. His body subtly makes the shift between man and wolf, all his organs readjusting with a keen knowledge of where they should go, how they must arrange themselves to hurt him least. His skin stretches delicately and shrinks again and he’s aware of his sense sharpening, and somehow without him noticing, he’s become the wolf – their consciousnesses fitting into each other seamlessly and without any discord.  
  
Wolf-Remus howls at the moon with carefree abandon, not angry or destructive anymore, and Padfoot bounds out of the shadows, tail wagging. He lets out a bark that sounds like a laugh, and waits for the wolf to follow him as he begins to run through the woods. In that moment, Remus and the wolf are free and unrestrained, and as they run they’re aware of how wonderful it feels, having a body that does what you tell it to do.  
  
Later, once the moon has set, Remus realises he doesn’t have any first aid to do, for the first time since the bite. Padfoot becomes Sirius again, and they sit there together in the big and empty forest. Remus thinks fondly of the Vonnegut quote about everything being beautiful and nothing hurting, and he closes his eyes and lets his head rest on Sirius’s shoulder.  
  
“Your hair tickles,” he complains.  
  
“Now Moony, is that any way to show gratitude?” Sirius responds, but Remus can hear the laughter in his voice.  
  
“I’ll show you gratitude,” Remus says, and he means it to sound like a threat, but somehow it only comes out sounding daftly fond. Sirius snorts, and Remus nudges him with his shoulder.  
  
“Let’s go home,” Remus says softly, and Sirius hums.  
  
“Alright,” he replies.  
  
And they do.  


**Author's Note:**

> omg guys........ i actually participated in a legendary fic exchange fest.............. someone high five me


End file.
